


Slip and Slide

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel hears Dean’s breath catching in his throat.  “I was so fucking scared…I thought you were gonna die…and you want…”</p><p>“Yes, I want.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip and Slide

**Author's Note:**

> Porn Battle XIV, Prompts Supernatural, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Blood, Wound.

Castiel wakes with a shocking jolt of pain to Dean tearing frantically at his shirt buttons, quickly followed by the sound of the small buttons clattering against the walls and the tearing of thin cotton.

“Dean,” he groans, or thinks he does, as he opens his eyes to Dean’s frightened, wide stare and desperate fingers sliding over his bared stomach and chest as Dean feels for more injuries under Castiel’s ripped shirt and the thick layer of blood coating his torso from his chin down.

“Cas…so much blood…Jesus…your side.” Dean hovers his fingers over the wound, barely touching.

“Dean, it’ll heal,” Cas grates out through clenched teeth throwing his head back against the pillow as Dean finds a particularly painful area on the side of his waist where it dips into the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah? Is that before or after you finish bleeding out?” Dean mutters while with shaking, red-encrusted fingers he undoes Castiel’s belt and then his pants before turning Castiel away from him onto his uninjured side. Dean ignores Castiel’s pained complaint at the manhandling and grabs quickly at the waistband of both pants and briefs and pulls off the torn and tattered clothes over the wounds that have ripped Castiel open from his shoulder to his knee. The pants sodden and heavy and dripping, are thrown aside to join the coat and jacket on the floor.

Castiel feels the bed shift as Dean kneels behind him and he feels the trembling in Dean’s hands as he runs them protectively over Castiel’s back, down his hip and his thigh tracing the outline of the injuries looking for signs of healing. 

Castiel can hear the squelch of his blood between Dean’s fingers, he can feel the ease with which Dean’s hands slide through it, he can feel the warmth and heaviness of it against his flesh. The coppery, metallic smell stimulates his senses; it’s primal and it’s base and it’s fear and it’s making his penis thicken where it lies against the crease in his hip. 

He turns into Dean, his bloody back leaning against Dean’s thighs, soaking through into Dean’s jeans. He stares up at Dean’s face through pupils widened in want and lust. He spots the exact moment Dean notices, when his eyes flick sideways down to where Castiel’s cock is semi-hard in the midst of the blood-matted soft curls of his dark pubic hair.

“Cas…” Dean’s hand tracks a trail through the blood on Castiel’s chest and stomach to rest fingertips in the damp curls. Dean’s eyes glance at the quickly healing injuries on Castiel’s side and he cups his other bloody hand to Castiel’s jaw as he shuffles backwards to let Castiel lay on his back on the bed. Castiel takes Dean’s wrist and places Dean’s hand on his chest, his own resting on top, encouraging Dean’s fingers to slide over his nipple.

Castiel hears Dean’s breath catching in his throat. “I was so fucking scared…I thought you were gonna die…and you want…”

“Yes, I want.” Castiel lifts his hips to encourage Dean’s other hand to move.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean huffs moving his hand to finally encircle Castiel’s now fully-hard cock. The blood makes it slide easily in Dean’s fist as he grips harder and starts stroking his fist up and down the length.

“Take your clothes off.” Castiel stares at Dean, his voice commanding and urgent and Dean stands by the bed and strips quickly. Dean lies back down beside Castiel, pulling Castiel’s head round and licking his mouth when Castiel turns to his side and wraps his arm round Dean, pulling him close and feeling him slip and slide against the still-wet blood. 

Castiel strokes Dean wherever he can reach and wraps himself around him till they’re both pink and slippery and their chests and hips and thighs glide alongside each other. Castiel grinds his hips to rub his erection against Dean’s before completing the roll to get Dean on his back. He squats back on his heels between Dean’s thighs and brings Dean’s knees up and lets them fall open. He keeps his eyes on Dean’s face as he takes one finger and puts it into the still-healing wound on his side. He hisses slightly at the sting but brings it away coated in fresh, wet blood, then places it against the tight muscle in Deans ass and slowly pushes past it.

Dean gasps and groans staring at Cas and relaxing the muscle to let him in. Castiel slips the finger in all the way, teasing and stretching. He pulls it out and back to the wound and coats another finger. 

“You’ve fucking stopped it healing,” Dean moans as he watches the trickle of blood that drips down Castiel’s side as Castiel takes both bloody fingers and pushes them impatiently into Dean.

“It’s possible,” Castiel says through shortening breaths, “to delay healing.” He grabs Dean’s wrist where it lies grabbing at bed sheets by his side and brings it up to lay it on the seeping wound. He guides Dean’s hand to sweep up the fresh trail of his blood then leans in and turning Dean’s wrist, he sticks out his tongue and licks the blood from Dean’s palm, then along Dean’s forefinger, taking it into his mouth when he reaches the tip and sucking at it until it’s clean. He releases it with a wet plop. 

Dean groans and pushes back against Castiel’s fingers as he takes his now saliva-wet palm and wraps it round his own cock. “Fuck me, Cas. Do it. Do it fucking now.”

Castiel pulls out his fingers, coats a third and pushes back in. “Patience.”

“Castiel, Angel of the fucking Lord, you bury your fucking cock in me right now. You fucking hear me!”

“Language, Dean,” Castiel admonishes, amused, but he does pull his fingers out, teasing one round the hole and lines himself up. Dean pushes his hips higher up Castiel’s thighs, opening his knees wider like a slut. Castiel places the head of his cock against Dean’s ass and as he pushes in slowly he leans forward pressing a hard kiss against Dean’s mouth. As his cock buries deeper into Dean so he deepens the kiss, his tongue in Dean’s mouth, his teeth scraping against Dean’s lips. 

Dean groans into his mouth. “Move, Cas for God’s sake.” Castiel nips at Dean’s lip to punish the blasphemy, and pulls his cock most of the way out before thrusting in again. He sets up a rhythm, fast and urgent, intentionally avoiding Dean’s prostate until Dean is groaning and cursing and threatening to finish what the demons started. Castiel nibbles at his ear and takes pity on him. He sits back on his heels, placing a hand under each of Dean’s thighs and lifting Dean’s hips higher and off the bed. When Castiel rolls his hips that certain way, Dean screams a high, long drawn out ‘oh’. 

Dean takes his cock in his hand again and pumps and pulls in sync with Castiel’s thrusts. Castiel pushes his hips forward and arches his upper torso back, his head leaning back, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He gives voice to little whimpers of pleasure as Dean tenses and relaxes around him, the tight warmth of Dean’s body squeezing at him in all the right ways.

“Cas…Cas…fuck…” Dean reaches his unoccupied hand towards Castiel and his fingers scrabble purposelessly against Cas’ belly, blunt fingernails scraping trails in the now drying and flaky blood that still coats Castiel’s skin. Castiel feels Dean tense against his thighs and under his hands he feels Dean’s legs seize up seconds before Dean lifts his cock slightly and comes, shooting into the air between them. Cas moves one of his hands to wrap it around Dean’s own, feeling Dean jerking the final drops of his orgasm in the tight envelope of his fist. 

Castiel groans and brings his head back down to stare at Dean as he feels the heat build in his belly and his balls tighten and he thrusts once more and empties himself into Dean groaning his name.

Castiel slips out of Dean, a small dribble of cum following after, and he watches as it slides down to the bed before shuffling to sidle up next to Dean, lying close alongside. “We should do that again,” he says, quietly, breathlessly.

Dean places his hand on Castiel’s side and strokes down the red skin over where the now-healed wounds were. He looks at Castiel incredulously. “We are not fucking doing that again, Cas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is a fantastical kink and blood shouldn't be used for lube in real life!


End file.
